Broken Soul
by acceptable
Summary: Everything happens for a reason and sometimes bad things happen from the best of intentions. Gideon may have turned Wyatt but it was Piper's death that pushed him over the edge. Promises that should never have been kept...


**A/N**: Myabe a one shot, maybe not. I'm having a little writers block with Excalibur at the moment and this idea came to me, so I thought I would see how it came out. Let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would love to, I don't.

**Summary:** Everything happens for a reason and sometimes bad things happen from the best of intentions. Gideon may have turned Wyatt but it was Piper's death that pushed him over the edge. Promises that should never have been kept...

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"No, Mom, please…Please wake up…you can't be…Mom…wake up…you're ok, you'll be ok…Mom!"

Wyatt heard the stricken cries tumble out of Chris' mouth but they fell hollow on his ears. He was standing stock still, frozen to the spot, his eyes fixed on a bloody athame lying discarded in the corner of the room.

"Please…" Chris whispered tearfully.

Wyatt felt something warm drip down his palm and he realised his fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails had drawn blood. He turned his gaze over to his mother's body, a defenceless figure lying lifeless in a pool of her own blood. Chris was bent over her, tears dripping from his jade eyes to create ripples in the congealing puddle of blood.

"Dad!" Chris shouted desperately, looking up so his tear-streaked face was directed at the ceiling.

"It's too late. She's dead."

There was a quality to Wyatt's words that made Chris swing round to meet his older brother's gaze. Chris shivered unconsciously at the harshness; he sounded like a demon…

"There-there might be s-something he can do." stuttered Chris, his tears choking.

An unmistakable sneer appeared on Wyatt's face, "Dad's an Elder now, Chris. And the only thing an Elder is good for is turning their backs on you when you need them the most."

"How can you say that?" Chris demanded, angrily wiping tears from his face with a blood stained hand, "Don't you care? Don't you feel anything? How can you…" He couldn't go on. It was too much. His mother was _dead_, what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to cope?

Wyatt flinched at Chris' accusations. Why could he only feel anger, not pain? Chris was right: Mom was _dead_. He was standing there with her body less than a metre away…why couldn't he grieve? Maybe he was just numb. That was it, Wyatt decided, it was the shock…he would feel later, the pain would hit him later…

"Dad!" Wyatt took over the calling for their father. He was still amazed at how calm his voice sounded.

Chris sniffed and rubbed tears off his face, smearing the blood even more, "Dad, please, we need you. Mom needs you."

As the familiar sight of coalescing white orbs appeared in the room, Wyatt couldn't help but wonder why his father had come now; he certainly hadn't bothered to come when they had called him earlier…

His eyes narrowed as he looked coldly upon his estranged father. It must have been…2 years since they saw each other last, Wyatt mused, Chris's twelfth birthday. Their dad had orbed in to say he wasn't coming to the party, naturally minus any gifts or birthday wishes for Chris, and Mom had flipped. 'If you don't care then why bother coming at all!' she had shrieked, the famous Halliwell temper clearly apparent. And Dad had done just that, disappearing from the kitchen and their lives simultaneously. Wyatt remembered how angry he had felt then, too. He was angry at Dad for leaving, angry at Mom for giving him the ultimatum, but most of all he was angry at the Elders for taking their Dad away from them. His hatred towards the 'busybodies up there', as his mother so eloquently put it, stemmed as far back as he could remember; he couldn't remember the reason for it but knew that somewhere deep inside his whole being was telling him not to trust them, that they weren't trying to keep him under their protection, but keep him under their control.

"What happened?" Leo whispered brokenly, taking in his ex-wife's body, and the blood that had poured from her stomach wound and soaked into the cream carpet.

"You weren't here." Chris accused, "you could have saved her. Why didn't you answer?"

Leo flinched, "I-I was busy," he stammered, "I c-couldn't get here, the other Elders…"

Wyatt stalked up to Leo, his fierce blue eyes blazing, "You're all the same," he hissed, "you don't care, none of you do."

Even despite his anguish at Piper's death, Leo managed to draw himself up self-righteously, "Of course I care! Piper was my wife, my charge…" Leo couldn't help but think of the other implications of Piper's death: the power of three broken. However he knew better than to voice this thought in the presence of his two angry and grieving sons; it would be fuel to their fire…especially for Wyatt.

"I-I need to tell Phoebe, Paige…" Leo realised, "Chris, you should go and clean yourself up a bit…the blood." He swallowed, the words sticking in his throat. But he needed to be strong now, his boys didn't need his weakness, they needed someone to depend on.

"I'll phone Darryl." Wyatt said tightly, "Get him to sort something out."

Chris pushed himself to his feet; he didn't want to hear this… he didn't want to know the technical detail, the mundane things that had to be done. It was as if neither of the other two men felt how personal this was, as if they could see but not fully realise that this wasn't some random stranger they hadn't saved in time. More tears threatened to spill out of Chris' eyes and he suddenly felt the urge to run, to get out of here, to be anywhere else, anywhere else in the world than where his mother lay dead at his feet.

The banners were still up, Chris realised dully, the remnants of his cake splattered across the floor where the table had been sent flying. He had been fourteen today, 'A big boy now,' his aunt Paige had teased, 'Too old to have us old folk fussing over you.' Phoebe had exclaimed in annoyance at being called old, but Piper had just smiled, 'You'll always be my little baby' she'd told him, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

Chris remembered squirming away, he wished he hadn't now, wished he had spent every last minute he could with her…if only he'd known.

"Chris?" Wyatt's voice cut through his recollection of the morning.

Chris glanced down at his hands, at his mother's blood. "I-I'm going to go and wash…and wash the…" Chris couldn't say the word blood, but he knew Wyatt understood.

Wyatt nodded once, firmly. It was as if he was detached from his feelings, keeping himself under an iron control. It wasn't the first time that the thought would cross his mind, but the question still remained, unanswered: why could he not mourn his mother?

Leo orbed out, as Chris exited the room, walking slowly as if he was still dazed. Maybe he was, Wyatt thought, a flash of worry worming its way through his emotional block, he had taken a pretty hard blow…

Remembering the fight, made Wyatt look down at his arm, the area where the energy ball had hit was burnt and blackened; he should have gotten Leo to heal it. Or he should have just used his shield in the first place, he thought angrily, and ignored the training that the Elders had given him, which had been explicit in saying that he needed to learn to fight without his shield, that he needed to be able to defend himself without it.

Wyatt realised that he was now alone in the room; slowly he made his way over to his mother's body and crouched at her side, ignoring the bloody footprints he left behind in the lush, cream carpet.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

The words felt meaningless to him, yet he _knew_ he was sorry, he _knew_ it, but that did not mean he could feel it.

"I should have been able to protect you, I should have been strong enough." This Wyatt also knew to be true; he was the twice-blessed, the most powerful magical being to walk this earth…and yet it had not been enough. He had not been powerful enough to stop the demon and if he couldn't stop the demon from killing his mother, he couldn't stop other demons from killing Chris… from killing the rest of his family.

"I will protect them," Wyatt promised fiercely, determination now flowing through his veins, "I'll make sure I'm strong enough to protect everyone, make sure they have nothing to fear from demons anymore. I'll become as powerful as I can be…I'll stop this from happening ever again. I promise you this Mom, demons will fear me, they wont dare hurt the people I love anymore."

Wyatt abruptly stood upright and strode from the room leaving Piper's body behind; he needed to phone Darryl, get him to sort something out, deal with the legal side. But his promise stayed with him, and from that promise he found an aim in life:

Wyatt Halliwell would become a force to be reckoned with. It was all about power…

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**A/N:** Hope you liked! If you did, drop me a review and let me know!


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